Mosaic
by Miss Bright
Summary: Wammy's was a breeding ground for fishy business. A compilation of dedicated one-shots; various genres and pairings.
1. Fishy Business

**A/N: 'Ello there! I've been quite busy with school, but I finally managed to find some downtime to launch this story. Well, please enjoy! :)**

**Prompt: B/A. **

**To: TheCatchingLightAlchemist.**

**Note: Here, I use B, Backup and Rue interchangeably; A, Alternative and Alexandra likewise. I don't own Death Note or The LABB Murder Cases.**

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* * *

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**Fishy Business**

* * *

He had come _this _close to telling her the truth. Oh, the horror.

It started with the accident.

L and Quillsh had been gone for the last five days, spending the House's first March Break in a decade scouring Europe's finest orphanages – courtesy of Quillsh himself, of course – for more geniuses to sniff out and collect. Now that Wammy's was up and running again after its long hiatus, Roger had explained, it was time to put it to good use: to fill it up with the most unfortunate but brilliant children in existence, those who aspired to make a difference in the world.

While L had been perfectly content with his first two choices, Quillsh had insisted on the benefits of having other alternatives and extra backups. Not only had they appreciated the pun, "A" and "B" were actually looking forward to meeting new candidates. Alexandra wanted to make new friends, and Rue had his own reasons.

B thrived off competition. Nothing could take his mind off _their_ voices more so than the dark fuel of envy. The strange thing was that he was never too sure of whom he was really jealous of. Was it L, who A always went out of her way to impress, or was it A, who L constantly showered with praise and attention?

Either way, it helped keep _them _at bay.

**

* * *

**

He smelled it seconds before he saw it.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?"

Alternative attempted to hide the reeking bundle behind her back, but it was too late. Backup stared her down; guilt was written all over the six-year-old girl's face.

She tried to sidestep him, but he spread his arms wide to block her escape through the front doors. "What have you got there, Princess?"

Her mouth tightened. He noticed that while Alexandra's skin was white as a sheet, her nose was slightly pink. She was obviously holding in tears.

Rue stretched out a hand, palm flat and expectant. "Give it to me."

"No."

"You're not allowed to leave the premises."

"Who's to know?" she retorted, jutting out her chin in defiance.

"Er, everyone?" B wiggled his fingers at the primitive camera situated just above them, overseeing the building's entrance. However, he knew that it was just a decoy; there was a nanny cam hooked to the bottom of the contraption.

She folded her arms. "I've already disabled it," A said with an air of smugness.

B shook his head mockingly. "You're so naïve. I was talking about the…" Backup trailed off and slowly mouthed the two words.

"Damn it."

"Exactly."

"So what happened?" he asked gently, switching tactics. When the Eurasian girl hesitated, he drew her close and began stroking her cropped hair. His nostrils automatically convulsed; whatever she was concealing in that bag was secreting a stench much like that of blood, but less metallic and more sour. Alarmed, he shifted his gaze to the string of red numbers floating beneath his nose. No, it was nothing serious at all.

The brunette's small and pudgy frame wracked with sobs as she finally broke down. "I'm a murderer," Alternative whispered against his chest, and a somewhat delicious shiver ran down the adolescent's spine.

_Hmm?_

"Don't be silly," Backup crooned.

"Rue, I killed him."

_What an adorable, darling drama queen._

"Who?"

"Arthur."

Although she couldn't see his face, B glared daggers at the young girl in his grasp. Arthur Pendragon was L's pet Asian arowana. Our guardian had entrusted them with looking after the fish while "Lancelot" and Wammy were out on their recruiting spree. It was one of the first of many tests that they would be subjected to.

How dare she commit such a terrible crime – how dare she fail L so early in the game?

Agitated, Backup stuck a hand in his normally combed hair and scratched ferociously at his scalp. Not that he suffered from dandruff or anything; he was stimulating his brain. Physical contact helped a lot. It was something he had picked up from L himself, among other things.

"I knocked over his bowl when I got out of bed," A explained, sniffing quietly. "By the time I finished refilling it, he was already dead. Please, Rue, help me –"

His heart swelled with pride and he melted a little. "Help you cover it up?" he drawled, crouching down to look his precious Alexandra straight in the eye. "Don't worry, Princess. Let's just flush him down the toilet and buy ourselves a replacement."

She turned a dangerous shade of green. "He deserves better than that."

"Fine then." Backup proceeded to drag her by the hand toward the kitchen. "Follow me."

**

* * *

**

Moments later, the duo was standing before the oven, watching Arthur's slimy corpse sizzle within one of Quillsh's weathered old cooking pans. Its once-glittering pale pink scales had browned almost immediately, giving them a nice crispy texture. It smelled like bacon grease. If Roger decided to be nosy, that would be their excuse. B was drooling just looking at it.

A, on the other hand, seemed on the verge of passing out. "Was this really necessary?"

"Of course," Backup said smoothly. "In Japan, over 95% of the dead are cremated."

"Arthur's a fish –"

"_Was _a fish. And an Asian one at that, too."

Alternative fell silent.

"We'll scatter his ashes to the four winds."

His fellow successor scowled. "When I die, I want a proper burial, just like my parents."

It was as if hell had suddenly frozen over. The words were instantly on the tip of his very tongue, dangling and itching to be unleashed. It bore down on him, this itsy bitsy thing called a conscience. Love required trust and honesty, and the latter was the only thing he couldn't find his way around.

"The truth will set you free," his ass. The truth would put him behind bars, with nothing and nobody to keep him company except _them_.

What exactly would he say, anyway?

_Oh, my foster parents weren't _really _abusive. I gave _myself_ those bruises – when the cops showed up, I had no choice but to frame them. But that's not even the worst of it. Oh, no. I was the one who slipped them the ecstasy. I thought I was doing them a favor, you know? Their time was running out. They only had a few hours to live. I wanted them to die happy. They weren't bad people, really. _

_I'm sorry, Alexandra. I never predicted that there would be other casualties._

He could never do it. He could never come completely clean and confess his mistake. Maybe one day though, when he was ready, he would tell her about the Eyes. And _them_. Maybe then she would understand that none of it was his fault. She would hug him and kiss him and make everything all the better.

But not now. Not yet.

A particularly sharp hiss filled the air, and he was jolted out of his reverie when he realized that the noise had come from his own mouth.

B cleared his throat. "When you die?" he repeated A's last words in a low voice. "You're far too young to worry about things like that, Princess. You have so much ahead of you."

"The Grim Reaper doesn't care how old you are," she replied solemnly.

He could have sworn he felt his left eye twitch. "Good point," he muttered.

In one swift movement, he reached across the stove and cranked up the heat to maximum. The coils under the frying pan grew brighter and brighter until it emitted a piercing whistle.

That had definitely been too close for comfort.

**

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**A/N: Just a thoughtful little piece, nothing too heavy but pretty ominous all the same, haha. **

**Hope you liked it ^_^**


	2. Aesthetics

**A/N: And here's the second one-shot of this series! I've looked over all the requests and most of them are actually A/B-centric save for one L/A friendship, so I shall now be filing this fic under A/B without any specified genres. **

**Prompt: A/B friendship.**

**To: OhMyGeePinkSucksAss. Happy birthday :D**

* * *

**Aesthetics**

* * *

B's favorite subject had always been science. Never had he considered that art was also a science in itself, until L told him differently. There was even a whole branch of philosophy devoted to studying the nature of beauty and taste, symmetry and sentiment.

Linda wasn't the only artist at Wammy's. No, definitely not.

It was a well-known fact that Backup was excellent with his hands. He was particularly good at origami, the Japanese craft of paper-folding, as well as zhezhi, its Chinese predecessor. He had his dead mother to thank for that.

Not long after he had grasped the abilities to walk and talk, she'd taught him how to create all sorts of objects, such as flapping cranes and layered lotuses. Alternative particularly liked his paper mobiles; there was nothing more enchanting for her than a whole flock of wish-granting birds and puffy stars hovering overhead, especially if they were made from glow-in-the-dark or glitter paper. B constantly made it a point to bother Roger to buy some more the next time he went into town.

He was determined to give A the whole damn sky.

Though, if there was one thing about Alexandra that really annoyed the hell out of him, it was how she always had her head stuck in the proverbial clouds. Her young age was no excuse for her immaturity, no excuse for her childish preference to hang out with Nate River, Wammy's latest addition. Mihael, that lucky son of a bitch, would always get off scot-free from performing chores alongside his much-hated rival just because A wanted to spend a little more time with her new friend.

Not only was she disrupting the system of the Wammy's House Chore Chart, which paired its genius inhabitants accordingly by rank, A was embarrassing herself. She was way out of Near's league. How could she not see that the boy offered her nothing, whereas _he_ could provide her with the entire world?

Alexandra's ignorance made him want to punch something, preferably River himself. However, he couldn't let jealousy get the best of him. It would be too obvious, and more importantly, too early. The humiliation would be unbearable. So instead, Backup channeled his anger into inanimate objects.

That was when he discovered knives – or, more accurately, his passion for sharp tools.

He had come across this talent when he and A were helping Wammy prepare a fruit salad for L one sweltering summer afternoon. Alexandra had mentioned to him in passing that her parents used to carve food for some of their clients, especially on wedding assignments. It was a highly cultivated art that only the most experienced and dedicated chefs could master.

B was neither, but the image had been so inspiring that it had spurred him on to fashion an apple into a rose right on the spot. He had nicked his finger, but _hey_ –

– the sparkle of joy in those wide hazel eyes had been wholly worth it.

He quickly progressed from apples and pears to tree trunks and walls. Backup became fond of engraving his and A's initials into the most discreet surfaces he could find, using fancy print to do so. Calligraphy, it was called. He liked to experiment with fonts. It pleased him, the sheer fact that no matter how elaborate the letters became, they essentially carried the same simple message:

A and B together, side by side for eternity.

* * *

**A/N: Hmm, I'm not sure if that was quite friendship-ish enough. It was more like a one-sided (and slightly pedophilic) romance, but meh. Hope you liked it ^_^**


	3. Old

**A/N: I decided it was time to churn out another one of these, despite needing to study for my English Lit exam tomorrow. Wish me luck? LOL. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Prompt: A/L friendship.**

**To: Shrewd Other.**

* * *

**Old**

* * *

Whenever lethargy plagued him like the brain-numbing fog that it was, L turned to sweets. Where most people would reach for their secret stash of vodka or splurge on energy drinks in desperate search of that godly buzz, he would simply opt for a few cups of sugar cubes laced with coffee or tea. In fact, it seemed to be his answer to everything: the end all, cure all.

Sugar was the ultimate paradox. It was the root of all evil yet the solution to all problems.

"_L, another food fight has broken out in the dining ha –"_

"Mello again, no doubt. Please inform Roger that taking away Mihael's chocolate will do more harm than good."

"_L, I'm worried about B. He's been very moody lately..."_

"He doesn't like the apricot jam you've been stocking the pantry with, and quite frankly, neither do I."

"_L, the kids want to go trick-or-treating this year. Should we risk –?"_

"Costumes are costumes for a reason. As long as they promise me a share of the loot, I shall concede to their request."

And so on.

By the time Halloween rolled around, L and Wammy had everything planned down to the very last detail. The children would return to the orphanage at half-hour intervals, and they were all to travel in groups of no fewer than two. The younger ones would be accompanied by a teacher at all times, and if anyone was caught straying from the designated "candy" trails, they would be escorted back to the House immediately.

As L watched his potential successors filter excitedly out of said institution, he felt a sad calmness settle over him. He fished a purple lollipop out of his pocket, unwrapped it and began sucking on it vigorously. How he wished he could join them, how he wished he could be young again, and not...

"_Felice ventesimo compleanno_, L."

The newly twenty-year-old detective frowned before turning to face his caretaker. "Please don't remind me," he murmured around the grape-flavored candy.

Quillsh Wammy's silver moustache bristled worryingly. "Is something the matter?"

L switched his attention back to the window in time to see the iron gates slam shut, stirring the piles of leaves that littered the cobblestone path. It was too late. They were gone.

"You know how I feel about aging, Mr. Wammy. Every year, it's the same thing. Every year, it's a year closer to the inevitable."

Despite the solemnity in his words, the older man laughed. "And how do you think I feel?"

L pursed his lips, suppressing his surprise. It had never really occurred to him that Quillsh Wammy was fragile in any way, shape or form. He was physically fit and extremely agile for a man nearly seven decades old. His mind was as sharp as ever, and he managed to secure at least a dozen patents a year. To L, Watari was a constant – one whose wisdom that L usually and unintentionally overlooked.

"Ancient," L finally answered, "but deadly."

"Yes," Wammy agreed.

"I'm not a teenager anymore," L said in wonderment, plucking the now-bare lollipop stick from his mouth and tossing it into the garbage bin beside his desk.

"You haven't been one for a long time."

_How true_, the world's most sought-after investigator was about to say. A sudden rapping at the door interrupted their quiet exchange. L cocked his head as he listened intently to the distinctive pattern: _tap-tap-taptaptap-taptaptaptap-tap-tap._

"It's A. I wonder what she wants," L mused, nodding at his handler.

Wammy strolled over to the door and unlocked it to reveal the seven-year-old girl, as expected. She was dressed in faux metal armor, and her short dark hair was pulled back into an impossibly tiny ponytail. L smiled fondly upon recognizing her get-up, but his heart sank at the sight of the girl's pinched face.

"Why aren't you with the others?"

"B." The sole syllable spoke volumes. Alternative dropped her empty tote bag onto the floor. "He... he didn't want Near tagging along."

"And where's Near now?"

"With Linda," she responded. Her sour expression intensified.

"Ah. And Backup?"

"I don't know, and I don't care."

One weary glance signaled Quillsh to leave them to their own devices, and so the orphanage's founder slipped out of L's chamber and closed the door behind him. L scrutinized the young girl before him. Alexandra Shire was the youngest but brightest of the bunch, his first but second-favorite pick. It was uncontrollable, his tendency to side with B over A. But she _did_ seem genuinely upset.

"Liquorice?" L offered, swiping the glass bowl of allsorts off his desk and thrusting it at the other Eurasian.

"No, thank you."

He was rummaging through his drawers now. "Mint?"

"No, I'm good."

"Juicy Fruit?"

"What are you implying?" A demanded, eyeing the gum suspiciously.

"Nothing," L said, abandoning his attempts at hospitality. He slunk over to the coffee table and hopped onto the loveseat. Alternative followed and mimicked his actions, claiming the chair opposite to his and matching his frog-like stance limb for limb. An outsider would've assumed that she was subscribing to the principle of imitation being the highest form of flattery, but L knew better. He could even see that instantaneous spark of realization in her eyes, as he'd hoped.

"He's jealous, isn't he?"

"You tell me," L prodded gently.

A shifted uncomfortably, but her gaze was unwavering. "L, I think it'd be best if..." There was an awkward pause.

L peered at her closely. A blush was creeping across Alternative's plump cheeks like that of a peach. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Her voice was low. "How disappointed would you be if I told you I wanted to quit?"

"What do you mean by _quit_?" L inquired, stalling for time.

"Leave," she clarified. Alternative waved her hand toward the window. "Leave Wammy's. Go back to St. Mark's."

"But you hated it there."

"So what? It was much simpler there," she replied softly.

L shook his head, and his fingers tightened their grip around his knees. His heart was racing now. He couldn't afford to make the wrong move. Losing A meant losing B as well, and both of them had too much potential.

"Going back isn't going to change a thing. You're different, A. You're a genius. Your place is with us."

"I want to be normal."

L took a deep breath. He didn't want to resort to this, but...

"_Normal_ is not going to save the world, Alexandra."

She flinched.

"I know what you're capable of. I know that you want to make a difference. Isn't that right?"

Alternative nodded slowly, and then more animatedly. L allowed himself a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

"Come here," L ordered, scooting a few inches to make room on the sofa. When the younger girl obediently clambered up beside him, he smiled down at her. "Do you want to know what I see?"

"What?"

"A considerate classmate. A loyal friend. A sure prodigy. A hero in the making."

A's blush deepened. "You really think so?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"You lie to everybody."

"You're supposed to accept the compliment graciously and move on."

To his astonishment, Alternative giggled and latched onto his leg. L froze in utter shock.

"Alright, _Dad_," she mumbled against his jeans. "Whatever you say."

Damn.

L Lawliet had never felt as old as he did right then.

* * *

**A/N: In case it wasn't clear enough, this was written in the context that B has already told A about the Shinigami Eyes, which will be explained properly in a different one-shot. To any new readers, these one-shot requests are basically unchronological extensions or spin-offs of the back story in my other fic. **

**Hope you liked it ^_^**


	4. Eggstravaganza

**A/N: One exam left, hooray. Also, I'm interning again, which means more time to read and write during the next four months. Mwahaha! :) **

**Prompt: L/B/A friendship.**

**To: A. Alice-LaCasse.**

* * *

**Eggstravaganza**

* * *

L held up a finger. "One hour. That is all we have to complete our task."

Alternative was positively squirming in her seat with excitement. Backup, in contrast, was glaring contemptuously at the pot of cooling hard-boiled eggs before them.

"Remind me why I'm here again?"

The normally-somber detective allowed himself a fond chuckle. "We're going to have ourselves some fun, B."

"Well, I don't like eggs, and I certainly don't like getting my hands dirty," the Japanese youth said stiffly. "Besides, won't we get in trouble for using the stove?"

"Mr. Wammy won't care. He trusts me," L lied, crossing his bare toes underneath the wooden table. "Anyway, this is the House's first Easter in years. It calls for a few festivities with my two favorite geniuses."

Backup immediately straightened in his chair, puffing out his chest ever-so-slightly. With him, a little praise always did the trick. L had realized this the day he personally recruited the orphaned pair.

A, however, furrowed her brow. "Why are we getting special treatment? It's a bit unfair to the new kids."

"Unlike them, we've earned it," B responded calmly.

L prodded the glass pot gingerly. Its surface was lukewarm to the touch. The eggs were _just_ about ready. "They've only been here for a month, and I still haven't told any of them who I really am. Even partial trust takes time, so until then –"

"Don't," Backup interrupted him. "You don't need to tell anybody else."

L stared at his oldest successor, deterred by his outburst and sudden audacity. "Why not?"

To his further surprise, Alternative nodded in agreement. "Because it's a huge responsibility that only the best of the best deserve to have."

"A huge _honor_," B drawled.

"Is that so?" L mused. "In that case, I'm flattered."

B cracked a smile. "You should be."

A little praise had always done the trick with him as well.

* * *

As there were presently twenty-four residents at Wammy's, there were two dozen eggs to be decorated. Each member of the sneaky but well-intentioned trio was accordingly delegated with eight.

Alternative was already slaving away on her fifth one. L proudly looked on as the Eurasian girl dunked her brush into a small cup of blue watercolor paint and expertly swept it over her current project's smooth white shell.

"I'm going to make this one look like an underwater scene," A announced. "With a shipwreck and a coral reef and everything."

"Showoff," B muttered.

"Yep. I'll give this one to Linda. I hope she'll like it."

Backup groaned audibly; he was still on his second egg, and his frustration was palpable. L shook his head sympathetically as he watched the fourteen-year-old boy grow more and more annoyed about the splotchy effect he had managed to achieve with his own egg.

"You could try the bigger brushes," L said kindly.

B scowled at the insinuation. "Patterns are for amateurs."

A giggled. "Right now it just looks like it has the chicken pox."

L peered at the clock mounted on the kitchen wall. "Speaking of chickens, Mr. Wammy will be back with the groceries in about half an hour, so we'd better hurry." He smacked his lips in anticipation (honey-glazed chicken was one of Quillsh's specialties).

Alternative squinted at him. "Chicken pox has nothing to do with chickens, silly."

"Me, silly?" L muttered in mock hurt. "That's blasphemy." He reached across the table and ruffled Alexandra's short hair.

"H-Hey!"

"If you're so smart, tell me this," L droned, settling back onto his stool and drawing his knees up. "Who came first: the chicken or the egg?"

Alternative stopped painting. Backup eyed him suspiciously.

"Is this another one of your tests?" they both chimed in unison.

"It is, and it isn't," L said vaguely. "I'm merely curious as to what your views are."

A scrunched up her nose in contemplation. "The chicken," she finally declared.

"B?"

Backup smirked. "It's an impossible riddle to solve. The circle of life is something that cannot be broken, simple as that."

"Oh, but it _can_." L wagged his fingers. "If you believe in God, the chicken evidently came first."

Backup folded his arms. "What if I don't?"

"By the same line of logic, the egg would be the default answer."

"And if I'm agnostic?"

L grinned slyly and winked. "Then it would be neither. It would be the rooster."

Backup snorted appreciatively.

"Hold on," A piped up, totally oblivious. "Roosters _are _chickens, so that doesn't make sense – what? I don't get it, what's so funny?"

That only made them laugh even harder.

"Ah, Princess, we'll tell you when you're older."

* * *

The kitchen window overlooked the driveway, so when Mr. Wammy finally returned, the trio was able to spring into action instantly.

In the blink of an eye, wet brushes were swept into a plastic bag, leftover watercolor paint was tossed into the sink, and the eggs were placed carefully into a thatched basket, one by one.

"Hurry up!" L ordered, nudging A aside and hurling the last three eggs simultaneously into the basket.

Big mistake.

There was a sickening splat as they split open and oozed white and golden lumpy slime all over the rest of the colored eggs. Everyone gasped.

"You idiot! They were still raw!"

L made a mental note to show Number One the true meaning of _idiot _afterwards.

Then again, she wasn't the one who couldn't boil water properly.

Backup delved his hand into the basket, plucked out a floral-patterned egg and gave it an experimental squeeze. It cracked and began to leak all over the floor.

"Interesting. It even has the consistency of jam."

A dangerous glint came into his eyes, and the wild-haired youth snatched up another.

L was wary. "B?"

Backup smiled. "Hope you're having an _egg-cellent _Easter, L."

_SPLAT_.

"Ooh, that looked like fun."

"Alexandra Shire, don't you dare – ngh!"

Soon, the air was thick with flying eggs – all of them aimed at _him_.

"As your superior, I order you to –"

_SPLATSPLATSPLAT._

"–gluurgh!_"_

"That's what you get for not knowing how to use the stove and wasting our time!" B called over the sound of L's futile protests.

"Yeah!"

"You little wankers! I'm going to get you!" L spluttered. He was too busy dodging the painted missiles and scrubbing his face to notice the new arrivals.

"WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON HERE?"

Three heads whipped around guiltily toward the kitchen door, where a livid Roger Ruvie and an astonished Quillsh Wammy stood frozen in disbelief.

Alternative let out a tiny squeak. "Uh-oh…"

"Say, L," Backup murmured out of the corner of his mouth, "why did the chicken cross the road?"

L swiped a generous amount of yolk off his forehead. "Now's not the time," he hissed just as A responded, "To get to the other side, obviously."

"And what if I don't believe in the other side?"

L's life – well, livelihood – flashed before his eyes. He was much too old to get grounded, but he did rely on Quillsh to provide him with the most scrumptious and brain-fuelling desserts. Surely, he wouldn't…?

"Who cares? Run!"

So they did.

* * *

**A/N: Yay for bad puns and totally wacky OOCness. Hope you enjoyed it. Happy Belated Easter! ^_^**


	5. Last Laugh

**A/N: As you'll see shortly, I've put a ****slight**** spin on the ambiguous aftermath of The LABB Murder Cases****.**** Here's to hoping it'll suffice**** and ****satisfy****!**

**Prompt: B/L****.**

**To: TeamDeanWinchester4Ever.**

* * *

**Last Laugh**

* * *

_"L is for the way you look at me."_

* * *

It was like staring into a mirror. A shattered, mold-infested funhouse mirror.

The image flickered for a second, and then it cleared up, sharper and brighter than before. L lifted a hand to his cheek, where slim fingers met with cold but smooth skin. For a fleeting moment, he fully expected the other man to do the same, forgetting that the webcam connection was one-way only.

"_Do you like what you see?"_

Beyond Birthday's sly voice filled his state-of-the-art headset, free of any distortion that would normally accompany telecommunications across the Pacific.

"What exactly am I looking at?" L countered. There was no harm in humoring him, not when they both knew what it would all boil down to at the end of the day.

Either L would get his answers or B would take his secrets to the grave.

Beyond Birthday wanted entertainment, and L wanted a motive. No, he _needed _one; he and Wammy _both_ needed it for closure. That was why he was here, participating in a long-overdue meeting behind closed doors instead of being out there with Chief Yagami and the others, monitoring the news and reviewing security tapes of international prisons.

"_Nuh-uh," _came the haughty reply. Beyond Birthday fluffed his greasy hair and preened into the webcam. _"You tell me."_

"I see vermin," L said. He took in the chilling sight of his ex-successor's charred visage, his bared and unnaturally white teeth, his sunken eyes. The third-degree burns suited the demon that had once been his greatest friend. "A murderer, a degenerate, a savage…"

Beyond Birthday stopped smiling._ "__How about a__ monster?"_

"A monster," the detective affirmed.

"_Like you." _

"Like me." L set his jaw. "Only I am not a criminal. You have destroyed innocent lives. I protect them."

"_You reeeeaaaally think so?"_

L deflected the jest with another question. "Did you actually think you would get away with it?"

_"Yes. I suppose I underestimated the FBI," _Beyond Birthday muttered. _"That's alright, though. I won't make the same mistake the next time."_

Cue crazed cackling.

* * *

_"O is for the only one I see."_

* * *

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. L leaned closer to the screen as though he was trying to intimidate the maddened convict in retaliation. Of course, he was nothing but a Cloister Black letter to the other man.

"There will not be a next time."

_"Are you sure about that?"_

"You are in a maximum-security facility and will be for the rest of your life."

_"Maximum-security facility," _Beyond Birthday mimicked using a baby voice. He hooked his thumb into his bottom lip in mockery of L's own habit._ "As long as there's a way in, there's a way out." _

To emphasize his statement, B began to suck his digit like a Tootsie roll. In and out, in and out, in and out.

L resisted the urge to avert his disgusted gaze. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

_"Oh, no, not even you will be able to stop me. You see, I have a job to finish, and nobody gets in my way unless I deem it so. The only reason you caught up to me was because I let you. We both know I would've won if it hadn't been for the LAFD."_

Backup's chest heaved with exertion as drool dribbled from his mouth and onto the rest of his fingers. He looked half-starved. With a jolt, L realized that he had yet to have breakfast himself. Yes, food would be a welcome distraction.

L muted the volume on his headset's mike.

"Watari," he called, and the elderly caretaker stepped forth from the shadows.

"Yes, Ryuzaki?"

The irony of the alias, combined with L's next words, was palpable. "Bring me something to eat. Something preferably with jam."

Quillsh gave an awkward cough. "With all due respect, I don't think..."

"Please do not question me," L said sharply.

His most trusted associate and only confidant nodded silently and left the room. L returned his attention to the laptop and switched on the mike. Beyond Birthday reacted immediately.

_"Miss me?"_

"No."

_"How rude. After all, you were the one who requested this meeting."_

Despite himself, L bristled at this. "I am not the one who spent the entire day grooming for a videoconference, as I have been told," he pointed out, hating himself for his own childishness. He could not stand B's brand of cheekiness; it had always brought out the best and worst in him, a desire to even the score.

_"Can you blame me? You're my first and only visitor, if I can even call you that." _Beyond Birthday shook his head and added, _"First and last, that is."_

"Even if you do manage to escape, you will not get far. It would probably be in your best interest to stay out of the public eye at the moment, would you not agree?"

B shrugged playfully. _"Death doesn't scare me. Neither does Kira. How does the saying go again? It was one of your favorites."_

"A man with nothing to lose has nothing to fear," L quipped softly, "and such a man is the most dangerous of all."

"_Indeed. Oh, L, foolish L. Kira isn't the enemy here."_

Beyond Birthday paused and smirked. L shuddered. Aside from the dementedly smug expression, the resemblance was uncanny.

"_I am."_

* * *

_"V is very, very extraordinary."_

* * *

Quillsh Wammy returned, minutes later, with an entire cart furnished with jam-filled donuts. Disapproval was written all over his wizened face, but L ignored it. He helped himself to several of the round pastries, making sure to chew and swallow as noisily as possible.

Silence had fallen on the other end of the conversation. Beyond Birthday was peering sadly into the webcam, as though he knew perfectly well what L was presently devouring.

"_You're so mean," _B finally said.

L seized the opportunity to retort, "Mean? What are you, twelve?"

It was time to go in for the kill. He hoped against all hope that his intentional "slip" would not go unnoticed.

It did not.

Beyond Birthday perked up. _"Speaking of twelve-year-olds, how is she? Our sweet little A?"_

"She is recovering well," L fibbed. "She is receiving the best medical care in the world and will be back on her feet in no time."

"_She'll be on her back again in no time," _the younger man sneered. _"Six feet under, mind you."_

Something snapped inside of him. "Enough!"

"_Ooh,_" Beyond Birthday squealed. _"I love getting a rise out of you!"_

L took a deep breath. "Rue," he murmured, "why did you do it? She loved you."

Beyond Birthday's face suddenly distorted, as if suffering from a stomach cramp. _"No, she didn't, because if she did…" _he sighed, trailing off bitterly.

There was no remorse, no guilt, no shame in his voice – only dejection and jealousy. The strawberry goo turned to ashes in L's mouth. It was unreasonable to even consider pitying the degenerating genius, the former star of Wammy's House; his lack of a conscience was inexcusable.

"She loved you like a brother," L insisted. Beside him, Wammy shifted uncomfortably.

"_Not even that. And it's all their_ _fault."_

"Whose?"

B cocked his head, rolling his eyes toward the heavens. _"Them. Friends in high places."_

The detective suppressed a snort. Anyone else would have thought that this was an early attempt to establish grounds for an insanity plea, but he knew better. Backup was merely toying with him, beating around the bush and stalling for time to prolong their meeting and his amusement.

"Are you referring to supernatural entities?" L inquired in a bored tone.

The moment the words left his mouth, he mentally backtracked.

He considered the idea.

The supernatural. Preposterous. Yet…

It had been nine days since he had grudgingly ended surveillance on the Yagami and Kitamura households, and just four days ago, he had encountered his main suspect from afar. Light Yagami was a genius, one of his own caliber, but he was only human. L would be a fool to count out the glaringly obvious.

Perhaps "Kira" had friends in high places as well?

It was so illogical that it was logical.

"_I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. They do exist. Trust me." _Beyond Birthday was growing more agitated by the second, more animated and incensed. It was clear that he was positively itching to share his side of the story at long last.

And this time, L was willing to listen.

"Angels?"

"_Shinigami."_

Recognition spiked through the investigator. L's heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

"_Shinigami," _Beyond Birthday repeated, swatting at an imaginary fly – or so it seemed.

"Tell me more," L whispered.

* * *

_"E is even more than anyone that you adore."_

* * *

The tables had turned. L knew that B had sensed it too.

The Japanese man stared curiously into the webcam. _"Why?"_

"Because, at the moment, you are my only lead."

It was a lie, but it seemed to work. Beyond Birthday's eyes lit up like a puppy's. His black-splotched face broke out into a huge grin, the scabs around his mouth stretching hideously. It was a genuine smile, if L had ever seen one.

"_You want… my help?"_

"Yes."

He should have known that manipulating Backup would be easier than he had thought. Nothing had really changed. Nothing was more seductive than praise, and there was no one more susceptible to it than Rue Ryuzaki…

"_What's in it for me?"_

L's chest tightened, and he glanced toward his companion, who looked a little worried. Wammy could not hear what Backup was saying, but he was able to read his lips on the screen.

"Depends. What do you want that is within reason?"

"_Within reason?" _

Beyond Birthday exploded in a fit of dry laughter that was reminiscent of rattling bones. A chill ran through L's body; watching Backup twitch and roll around on his prison cot was like witnessing a corpse reanimate itself.

B wiped an imaginary tear before hissing:

"_You'll never be able to give me what I want, Mr. Lawliet._"

The detective recoiled. Backup's laughs escalated into shrieks and howls that sounded as though they had been restrained for years, and L tore off his headset. Without hesitation, he slammed the laptop shut, terminating the connection.

"Watari," L said hollowly, "you know what to do."

Wammy's face was solemn and full of sorrow. "There will be no turning back."

"I have no choice." L swallowed hard. "There seems to have been a severe breach of security. We must handle it objectively. B-Besides, A – will be s-safer – should be p-pleased –"

The normally coherent man clamped down on his tongue.

"I understand." With that, Watari whipped out a cell phone and began relaying orders.

No longer would "BB" be protected from the media; Los Angeles would have a field day with this. His face, his identity (both mutilated beyond comprehension because of _him)_ would be up for grabs. They were to effectively hand him over to Kira on a silver platter. Regrettable, but necessary – the impossible had happened. Were there really such beings as Shinigami? Were they the ones who had somehow given Backup his name? Was B going to do anything with the information, or had he already done so?

In any case, Kira did not fail to disappoint.

Hours later, amidst mountains of newspapers, confidential files and assorted donuts (sans jam), the world's greatest detective barely reacted when NHN announced the death of a certain Japanese-born Californian inmate, while the rest of the Task Force looked on grimly as usual.

* * *

**A/N: The lyrical excerpts belong to Nat King Cole. I don't usually listen to jazz, but he is the only exception. Hope you all liked it :)**

**P.S. And to those who are celebrating it today, have a wonderful Mother's Day!**


	6. Bows and Arrows, Blades and Apples

**A/N:** Wow, it's been almost two months since I updated this. So keep the requests coming if you have any, people! I'm open to any that are A, B or L-centric :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note.

**To:** ImmaGummyBear.

**Prompt:** BB/A; a bit of BB/L.

* * *

**Bows and Arrows, Blades and Apples**

* * *

There was something peculiarly sensuous about archery, the sport of handling a bow and arrow. Whether it was the graceful curve of the wood, the soft touch of the feather fletching, the musical twang of the snapping string, or the silvered point glinting in the light before it pierced its target, it was beautiful. Controlled danger was beautiful. An art. And while it was useless these days in a world where wars were fought with shiny guns, gargantuan tanks and chemical explosives, archery still managed to capture the fascination of those who enjoyed folklore or hunting.

Beyond Birthday happened to delight in both.

Legend had it that long ago, in the humble Swiss village of Altdorf, a man named William Tell had been forced to shoot an apple placed atop his son's head. It was punishment for neglecting to bow in respect to the hat of the newly-appointed _Vogt _Albrecht Gessler's, which had been raised on a pole in the town's central square. Furthermore, the _Vogt _threatened the rebel with execution if he couldn't make the shot. But if he did, he would be set free.

William Tell made the shot.

The twist in the tale came when Gessler noticed that Tell had removed an extra bolt from his quiver before firing the first one straight into the apple. After the successful shot, Gessler questioned Tell about the additional bolt he had taken out.

Without hesitating, the rebel replied that it was meant for the _Vogt_'s very own heart in the case that he missed his mark and killed his son.

After hearing this story from none other than expert marksman Quillsh Wammy, Beyond Birthday developed an incredible itch to try it out himself: splitting an apple clean down the middle from afar, just like the legendary William Tell. This feat would certainly impress L.

But first, he had to practice.

The Wammy's House property had neighboring woods that were perfect for recreational activities. Many of the orphans were fond of playing hide and seek there during breaks, but as Winchester approached winter, they receded into the main playing fields to frolic in the snow like the mindless puppies they were.

One early morning, when the faint orange sun was just peeking over the horizon, Beyond Birthday slipped into the woods with a sack of apples and his dagger. He went deep into the forest, deeper and deeper until the trees blocked out nearly all of the sunlight. His vision, which was at least three times better than an ordinary human's because of the Eyes, allowed him this luxury.

When Beyond Birthday reached his favorite clearing, he stopped.

A was already waiting there, just as she'd promised the night before.

Beyond Birthday paused for a moment to savor the sight. A's plump cheeks, accentuated by the girl's pixie cut, was flushed pink from the cold. She was looking up at him from the snowy forest floor, eyes bright with curiosity and impatience. She had been here for a while, he could tell. But she had come willingly, unquestioningly, and obediently, and that was all that mattered. He resisted the sudden urge to grab the young girl and kiss the warmth back into her winter-mottled face.

"Good morning, B."

"Hey. Thanks for coming," he said generously.

"So what's this about?" asked Alternative. She warily glanced at the objects gathered in his arms.

"You'll see."

A handful of threadbare trees outlined the clearing. Beyond Birthday selected one and began hacking away at the trunk at chest level. After he was finished, he gently set an apple on the flat stump and took his place at the opposite edge of the clearing.

"Stand aside," Beyond Birthday ordered his friend, and A did just that.

Backup raised his dagger once more. He had gotten it last year at the local flea market, shortly after discovering his talent for carving and sculpting. Unlike the common kitchen knife, _both_ sides of the blade were sharpened and designed to seriously – _fatally – _damage. In short, the dagger was an even deadlier weapon.

He spun it in his hand. Shining. Stunning. Striking, in more ways than one.

It went whizzing through the air.

A let out a loud gasp.

The dagger lodged itself with a _thwack _in the decapitated tree. The apple toppled off the vibrating trunk and rolled away in the snow. Beyond Birthday clenched his teeth in frustration. At least he hadn't completely missed it, right?

"Get that for me, will you?"

The girl hesitated.

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's practice, for something better."

Eyes still clouded with confusion, A returned the fallen apple to its perch and retrieved the dagger for him. Beyond Birthday promptly threw it again, in one fluid slashing motion.

This time the blade struck the apple. The bright red fruit plummeted to the ground, cracking into two uneven halves.

"Something like that."

Alternative looked slightly alarmed. "Where'd you learn this?"

"It's ninjutsu," he answered. "It's very popular in Japan. You Westerners call its practitioners ninjas."

"I don't think this is safe –"

"Be a good girl and do as I say," said B.

A scowled but said nothing else.

Time flew by, and the apples quickly ran out. The pair took a short break to collect all the mutilated fruit and eat what was left of them. Alternative in particular hated wasting food, an attitude that she had inherited from her parents.

Afterwards, they used the cores as moving targets. A tossed them into the air, up, up, up high, like birds in flight, and Backup hit each one with deadly precision.

_Thwack._

_Thwack._

_Thwack._

Beyond Birthday became so engrossed with his work that he didn't even notice the increasingly loud crunching of ever-nearing footsteps until it was too late.

"B? A?"

The new voice was soft, its tone indiscernible. Backup's attention snapped to the trees and his Eyes found the familiar name and lifespan of his keeper.

"Oh, no. L…" Alternative said in dismay.

L stepped out from the shadows. He was wearing a black overcoat that seemed a few sizes too large. Backup recognized it as belonging to Quillsh Wammy, their official caretaker.

"Oh, no," L echoed. His gaze swept over the macabre scene.

Beyond Birthday shifted awkwardly, unable to hide his dagger from view.

"You're not supposed to be out there without permission," L said gravely.

A turned redder than a tomato. "We know. We're sorry –"

"And with stolen food, no less. I thought you'd both know better than this."

B stayed silent. He knew he should be apologizing too, but all he could feel was irritation and disappointment that L had ruined his own surprise. His heart beat fast as he waited for L to reprimand him about the dagger.

He didn't.

L's unspoken disapproval was even worse than if he had yelled at him. Without even thinking, Beyond Birthday tossed the dagger away into the darkness of the trees, where it would remain, lost forever.

He looked at L expectantly.

"Well?"

The young man shook his head in exasperation, but his baleful expression was now gone.

Beyond Birthday breathed a sigh of relief.

He had done well.

L stuck out his hands, and Alternative and Backup each took one. They began to walk out of the woods and back up the hill, where a hot breakfast was most likely waiting.

"Remind me to never let Watari tell you bedtime stories again," L muttered as they trudged through the snow. "You kids are just too impressionable sometimes."

* * *

**A/N:** Not that it matters so much, but this one wasn't written in any context of a pre-established timeline unlike the previous others. Anyway, hope you liked it ^_^


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